


Building bridges

by salytierra (octavaluna)



Series: Empires of the Sun [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Estado Novo, Fluff and Angst, Francoist Dictatorship, Historical Accuracy, Hopeful Ending, Human & Country Names Used, Iberian Brothers, M/M, Portugal is actually a good brother, Sibling Incest, Spanish Civil War, spaport
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 01:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7293868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octavaluna/pseuds/salytierra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If time has taught them anything, it's that there was more than one way to keep a promise alive. And sometimes, it just meant existing alongside each other, being the escape, the rock to lean on and the sand to tell the time by.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Building bridges

**Author's Note:**

> LAST INSTALLMENT OF THIS SERIES :D  
> Nicolau is my fanpicked name for Portugal. (I like the sound and it means "people's triumph")
> 
> The action after the asterisks picks up directly from the first half of the first part of this series,[Papillio](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7078816)♥

 

**_October 1949_ **

The Spanish have a saying now “Hecha la ley - hecha la trampa.” Which basically means that every law has a loophole. Their loophole during their dictatorships was Rihonor de Castilla for Spain and Rio de Onor for Portugal. Although technically it’s the same village split between two countries. Today it’s mostly abandoned, only old people and cows still live there, but through the first two thirds of the twentieth century it had been a very lively place.

Nobody would bat an eye at them meeting there from time to time, and nobody would tell.

It took Antonio almost ten years until he gained enough strength and confidence to be able to meet his brother. The Civil War may not have been the worst event in his long history, but it was up there and it left a mark on him forever, a deep wound that would continue bleeding for a long time. He was under almost constant surveillance and forbidden to leave his territory or to interact with any of his kind. The Francoist government sent footage reels to the outside world to try to convince everybody that everything was good and dandy, that the country was doing fine. But Portugal knew, in the lonely nights when he would put up a projector and just stare at his brother’s haunted, ill face behind a phony smile, that good and dandy weren’t two adjectives he would adscribe to Spain then.

It took Portugal ten years of showing up in Rio de Onor once a month and just waiting on the bridge, over the invisible borderline, until Antonio finally came to him.

“Stop worrying” Was the first thing he said. Leaning on the cold stone of the bridge railing. “I’ve been worse”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’m your elder brother, I’m always gonna worry about you.” Portugal pointed out, drinking him in with his eyes, aching to touch him, to hold him close and make sure it’s not another dream or hallucination. To kiss that fake smile away from his lips. To pretend that he could still uphold a promise that, quite possibly, died out the moment they clashed their swords for the first time.

“Aw, look at that, you love me.” Antonio tried for a joke, but it’s been fifteen years and Nico wasn’t going to let himself be distracted.

“I do. I always loved you, even when I hated you, and I always will love you more than anyone else in the world, no matter what. So don’t you dare to hide from me any more.”

Spain gaped at him, looking awestruck and eyes watering as a big, sincere smile spread over his face. “I love you too, Nico, and I miss you. I’m sorry I swear I wasn’t hiding. I just couldn’t sneak out till now and okay… Just come here please.”

 

Rio de Onor is a special place, a place where, after making sure that nobody was around, Portugal could lean in over the border and close the distance between them, enveloping Spain in a much needed hug. He could feel how skinny and frail his frame was, could hear the quiet hiccups and feel the wet tears against his neck. How many times did he have to hold Antonio in the bad times? How many times has his brother held him?

Silently, he made a note to himself that once they were out of the woods they could work on being there for each other in good times too.

 

Over the next couple of decades they met periodically whenever they could. Walking calmly at night and holding hands over the invisible borderline, alone in their little square of land, at the end of the old Europe, as the rest of the world moved on leaving them behind.

It was okay though. They’d catch on eventually. If time has taught them anything, it's that there was more than one way to keep love alive. And sometimes, it just meant existing alongside each other, being the escape, the rock to lean on and the sand to tell the time by.

 

 

*****

 

**_April 2016_ **

 

Spain leans in and kisses him. In the broad daylight, under the shadow of the café and over the remains of their drinks.

Nobody even spares them a glance, nobody cares. People are rushing by, some heading to work, others to meet with their friends. The twenty first century is a mystery to come, but when you are old enough to know that nothing lasts forever, enjoying the rare moments of quiet is what keeps you going.

“Stop daydreaming and pay attention to me.” Spain mumbles, pouting like a child, and Portugal kicks him in the shin under the table. But then surrenders and kisses Antonio again.

“Let’s go back to our hotel.” He offers and has to suppress a laugh when Toño’s cheerful whoop spooks the butterflies into flight.

 

Rome once told them that the butterflies were the souls of the dead. Who knows, maybe it’s even their mother making sure he kept his promise.

If that’s true then right here, right now, being pulled forward by their clasped hands, Nicolau could possibly say that even after all these centuries, he somehow managed to fulfill part of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes:  
> \- The Spanish Civil War went on from 1936 to 1939, followed by a dictatorship with strict isolationist measures that lasted till 1975.  
> \- Portugal's Estado Novo was a very different authoritative regime that lasted from 1933 to 1974.  
> -The film reels mentioned are the NO-DO, that the Francoist Government sent outside to give an impression that everything was happy-flowery and prosperous in the country.  
> \- Rihonor/Rio de Onor and its bridge still exist. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading this series :D  
> Please stay tuned in for more nerdy stuff!
> 
> ***  
> [I've got a tumblr](http://salytierra.tumblr.com)♥  
> 


End file.
